


Tá tú ag grá

by where_thewind_blows



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers Family, But they are sad before they are happy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Steve Rogers Feels, Team as Family, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Writing on Skin, they are both idiots, they don't think they can have nice things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2018-12-10 12:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11691345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/where_thewind_blows/pseuds/where_thewind_blows
Summary: Steve's skin stays blank. Tony's skin is marked with words that never wash away. They both figure the other died long before they got to meet.Then suddenly Steve is in a new world where someone *might* write back if he tries, and Tony finds his skin bare for the first time since birth.Neither is quite sure what to do with this information so they do what they are both good at: ignore the issue until forced to deal with it.(Spoiler: They should have dealt with it much sooner.)----Based on the idea that whatever you write on your skin shows up on your soulmates





	1. I believe in you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve keeps hoping even when everything tells him to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is based on the idea that whatever you write on your skin shows up on your soulmates. It is my first story posted on AO3 and I'm pretty nervous so please be nice
> 
> This was going to be maybe two chapters long but I already have four written and it looks like there will be at least two more!

"Tá tú ag grá"

Steve was always fascinated by the words written in small dark letters on his mother’s left ankle. He often would stare at them as a child, enthralled by the curve of the letters, the unique sweep of the t’s. Sarah Rogers would laugh softly, sweeping her sons bangs from his blues eyes, "It means your father loved me very much and didn't want to leave us."

The ink-marks had been around for a long as ink had (something like 3 BC), but most people didn't know the history, all they knew was that whoever writing was on your skin was someone special. Maybe not as the love of your life, but as someone you could always count on, someone important. 

Sarah told Steve that she had fallen in love with his father's handwriting long before she met him. 

Sickly and small Steve didn't have much hope that anyone besides his ink-mate would love him. 

 

Bucky didn't have the same worries. Steve didn't know if they had even had a "discussion" about it, or if they just knew, but Bucky and this ink-mate Anna seemed to be completely platonic. In fact, Bucky at one point had received several (embracing) inquires about dating from her. That had given Steve an asthma attack he had been laughing so hard. It was alien to Steve, watching the writing work its way across his friend’s arms, like small insects marching together to form words. Bucky said depending on how Anna wrote it would tickle or sting if she was angry at him. 

(Once Bucky had gotten quite wasted and written something highly inappropriate on his arm the same night Anna had finally been asked out by the man she had previously asked advice on. In response, she wrote something even more offensive across her face then next day. Lucky for Anna (and Bucky) Anna's new man found the whole thing hysterical.)  

Steve had once asked Bucky how he knew he wouldn't fall in love with her if they ever met. Bucky had shrugged. "I just know". 

"But how?" Steve asked playing with his own blank fingers. "Can you, I don’t know, feel them?" 

Bucky hummed softly in thought, "I don't think you can feel them but when we write it isn't love, it's friendship, we love each other, but we aren't in love ya know?" 

"Yeah" Steve answered, even though he didn't. 

When the war started Steve noticed more and more people with writing on their arms displayed proudly instead of covered for privacy. Phrases like "I love you", "come home safe", and "don't leave me" seemed to be much more common. When Bucky’s enlistment went through Anna wrote in she soft curvy writing that he better come back safe because "if you miss my wedding I'm going to be pissed." Bucky just drew a stick figure in a dress in reply. 

Watching Bucky leave was hard. Having no one to comfort his own worries was harder. 

 

He was lucky though, somehow Steve was finally recruited and felt for a moment that he was worth something, even if he was alone. 

Erksine asked Steve: "One last question. Your ink-mate. This is a very secret project and-" 

"Don't worry sir." Steve interrupted with the small sad smile he used whenever he explained "I don't have an ink-mate". 

It wasn't completely unheard of, though it was rare enough that it usually got a second glance. People died, and during the depression many died as young children before they ever learned to write or mark their own skin. Others choose to ignore the words that would appear claiming it as against religious beliefs. Maybe they hadn't been born, though with the age gap Steve would have he didn’t think that was likely. There was no true way to tell, some just didn't have an ink-mate and no one truly knew why. The list of reason went on and on, but it wasn't well studied and even the studies being done didn't have the right technology to make it work. 

Ever since the soft writing he had studied on his mother ankle Steve has been writing and drawing on his own skin wishing someone, anyone, would respond. He drew on his arms so much that he actually found he liked drawing and turned to drawing on paper. He practiced over and over and then drew deep beautiful scenes on his own skin hoping the person on the other side would feel like joy he was trying to send them. 

They must not have. Steve's own art was all that covered his weak arms. Eventually he stuck to just paper. 

"Ah" Erskine’s voice was soft, his own skin dotted with notes, "well, I guess that's everything" and finished the rest of his drink. 

 

Peggy Carter was perfect in every conceivable way, he hoped for a brief moment that maybe it was her, maybe she didn't write back to his notes for some inexplicable reason but he could forgive her for it. He wrote "is it you" on top of his hand the day after meeting her and stared at her hands so intently the next day she asked him if he was ill. 

There was no sign of his sloppy letters. 

He found out why when he met Howard Stark and saw the matching "don't be a ass" written on both their wrists. Steve thought this meant that Peggy and him had no chance at all until she told him Howard was a great friend but damn she wished he would stop asking her how to get the hottest girls around. Steve laughed and said Anna had the same problem with Bucky. 

Steve was still jealous of Howard though. He not only was attractive enough to get any girl he wanted but he had Peggy as a consistent companion. It didn't seem fair. 

When Project Rebirth made Steve also attractive enough to get any girl, he thought for a moment it would be enough. Sure, he didn’t see Peggy for a while after that, forced to fall back into the strange world of dancing and punching Hitler, but he thought he could meet a nice USO girl and fall in love. Maybe get married after the war have the 2.5 kids and the house. It didn't happen though. Once or twice he met with a girl after the show but the writing on their arms, legs or collar bone wishing them or their mate well distracted him, kept him feeling isolated. 

For a long while he had given up writing but on lonely nights when he felt stupid like he was being used as a clown he wrote on his own skin.

"You don't even need to like me or anything, can you just tell me if you are there?" 

"I just want to know if you are alive or if I'm alone" 

"This time please respond, you don't even exist and I somehow can't move on" 

In the morning he scrubbed his arms bare. 

 

When Bucky was captured he didn't have time to think about anything other than getting him back. And then Bucky was safe and Anna's dark writing on his arm showed he had someone even when Steve hadn't been there. 

But he didn't care because his best friend was safe and it didn't matter that the Howling Commandos had little doodles or soft words in different languages on their arms because Steve was Captain America. Plus, Peggy was there and she was kind and beautiful and he thought maybe it didn't matter that Howard and her would write on each other's hands.

Of course, then one night Steve was laughing with the commandos when he overhears another soldier from England talking softly to comrade at another table: 

"She hasn't responded in two days, I know the bombing has been worse and worse. I don't know if she is still there to write." 

The man was tracing a spot behind his ear and even in the dim light Steve's sharp eyes could make out the "I love you". 

Maybe having no one to lose is better after all. 

 

When Bucky falls the "I believe in you" written on the curve of his right elbow is dark like Anna had rewritten it that morning. His own "It will all work out" is bright on the point where his upper arm and left shoulder meet. 

"I'm gonna go find her when this is over" Steve tells Peggy, his face bent over the table in defeat. 

"Who?" Peggy’s voice is soft, she is petting his hair gently as she speaks. 

"Anna." He says the name like a nail in Bucky’s non-existent coffin. "Bucky’s ink-mate. She lives in California, I think somewhere outside San Francisco?" 

Peggy is quiet for a moment, "How will you find her?" She finally coaxed trying to keep him talking even with the slight hesitation in her words. 

Steve shrugs "She is engaged, to someone named David? I think that's what Bucky said. He was deployed somewhere. They are getting married after the war. Bucky was going to go and meet her and she told him I could come too." He feels his breathe catch. "How hard can it be? Find a girl with ‘It will all work out’ written in his dumb ass lettering on her shoulder?" And goddamn it Bucky, this was not everything ‘working out’. 

Peggy nods though he knows she isn't convinced. 

"I have to tell her what happened, what a good man he was. They never got to meet and-" 

"Shhhh" Peggy consoles as his voice breaks again. 

Peggy says she will go with him after he is wants. He thinks he falls in love with her at that moment. 

 

After that Steve thinks about his ink-mate more than ever before. If they were dead they must have died before they could write. Or maybe for some reason they can't write. He remembers seeing someone at a hospital staring blankly at the ceiling with both arms ending in wrapped bandages. The man would never be able to properly write again. 

Steve thinks about the heartbreak on the man’s face, like there was nothing to possibly to live for. 

Maybe there was something besides death that was preventing them from writing back. So, Steve changed what he wrote on his skin. He stopped begging and started to think that just because no one ever wrote back didn't mean they weren't there. He starts doing art again. Drawing trees or flowers. Sometimes scenes of things he sees, never the evils, but the small pieces of good he could pick out from them. Because he knew Anna would never see Bucky's crappy artwork again, and even if there was no one there it made him feel better to try. 

Then things started to get messy (or messier, war is never clean). Hydra was a bigger bunch of douchebags than he thought and even when he did finally find time to sit down it was either to strategize or sleep. Drawing became a thing in the background for Steve, even if the others always made sure at least one positive phrase brushed on their skin. Steve even realized that that "don't be an ass" on Howard's wrist was a loving phrase between the two friends. 

And then as though it happened between one breathe and the next, Steve was on a plane falling into the ocean his hands shaking on the controls and Peggy's voice in his ear. 

“I'm here.” Her voice is so perfect he wants to crawl through the speaker and wrap himself in it. 

He doesn’t have time, he knows this but a voice in his mind screams that there was nothing, not even a word of love gracing his skin and in a moment there never would be. He didn't have anything to show to his ink mate. Alive or not, unable to write or unable to care. 

“I'm gonna to need a rain check on that dance.” It’s better to pretend this is normal, that he isn’t about to plunged into the water forever.

Even if his hands had been steady, the shaking of the plane makes the words look like a drunk man wrote them. 

There might not be anyone on the other side. But Steve loves whoever it was supposed to have been anyway. If there is someone there he wants them to feel that love, even if they don't want it right now. He never really gave up that hope. 

“All right. A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club.”

“You got it.” 

He has so many things he wants to tell Peggy. He wants to say he loves her, that even if they never could have been she was the closest thing he has to family. He wants to ask her to find Anna, tell her how amazing Bucky was, how he was the best man Steve knew. He wants her to tell the commandos they had done such a good job, that he hopes that they all have many children and die of old age. 

“8:00 on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?”

He wants to tell her that if she ever sees "Tá tú ag grá" on someone's left wrist to tell them why Steve wasn't there anymore. But he doesn’t have time. 

"You know, I still don't know how to dance.” He knows his voice is shaking, he can’t help it. He keeps his eyes focused on the sloppy writing. He pretends he is on the floor of his old home tracing his mother’s ankle in awe. 

“I'll show you how. Just be there.” He knows Howard will look out for her, but he feels horrible leaving her like this. 

“We'll have the band play something slow.” 

He closes his eyes. Pretends he is with Bucky laughing over something Anna wrote, his mother pretending to scold even with a smirk on her face 

“I'd hate to step on your-”

Maybe his ink-mate will be waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tá tú ag grá. Literal translation is: You are loved. 
> 
> I spent a good hour researching Gaelic translations to find what I wanted and I'm pretty sure it is still wrong. I am no way claiming I know anything about Gaelic and if someone has a better translation or another suggestion I will take it in a heartbeat! 
> 
> Also I am looking for a Beta Reader! My writing is passable but I'm sure there are mistakes and it would be great to have some help. If anyone is interested let me know!


	2. I'm so sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has learned to live with the writing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waring: Swearing in this chapter. Tony doesn't know how to filter (and honestly neither does the author)

Tony has a vivid memory of his aunt and father sitting across from each other as he ran between them with wide-eyed watching the writing appear. At the age of two he was still bright and mischievous, asking a thousand questions about anything and everything. He remembers picking up a pen and drawing his own line on his aunt’s skin and running to his father only to find it never appears.

"Everyone only gets one person Anthony. Remember that. We only get one." His father had says this whilst patting Tony’s head and looking a little forlorn.

At the time Tony doesn't really get it, but it's the only thing his father ever tells him about the writing so he holds on and remembers; his memory making it impossible to forget these things anyhow.

But he is young and he loves running his fingers over his mother’s collarbone where her own words "I'm so sorry" stand out in dark lettering over her heart. He loves when he was with Jarvis and sees Anna's lettering curve over his hands as he baked. For a while he loves his own words running across his left wrist like someone had forgotten how to spell and just thrown some letters down.

He doesn't think it's that's strange that the writing never changes, neither does mamas so he figures that's it's fine. It's when, while squinting and tilting his arm, he finally asks Jarvis what the lettering means that he begins to realize maybe it isn't such a good thing.

Jarvis freezes at the stove pausing for a moment before going back to chopping garlic.

"What does what mean Anthony?" Tony scowls at the name. He hates being called that.

"This" he gestures to the scattered letters “Why isn’t it a real word?”

"Ah" Jarvis says turning slowly to face the boy with an expression on his face Tony doesn't put together till much later "what language is it you mean?"

"Yea!"

"It's Gaelic" Jarvis says turning back to the stove obviously hoping the discussion is over.

"What's that?" Tony still unaware of the tragic road his questions will take him down.

"Irish." Jarvis responds, "Now run and grab the pasta from the cabinet"

"But what does it meaannn" Tony whines ignoring the command and flopping upside-down on the table.

"Anthony don't put your dirty head on the table please" Jarvis says not turning around.

Tony groans muttering "my head isn't dirty" before sliding down to the ground whining "Jarvissss"

Jarvis sighs, Tony knows he has won. The man turns and kneels in front of the boy he considers a son looking a little too serious and a little too sad.

"It means," he says grasping Tony's arm lightly and rubbing his own thumb across the words "You Are Loved."

Tony stares at the words on his arm his eyes are huge. "Really?" He whispers softly, because even with Jarvis Tony sometimes feels really alone in the big house and his father working and his mother planning the next charity event. "Who wrote it?"

"That," Jarvis says with another sad smile "is something you will need to find out for yourself."

“You can’t help me?” Tony is shocked. Jarvis helps with everything

“I’m afraid not, we all need to figure out who our ink mate is on our own.” Tony huffs clearly annoyed by this response. Jarvis smiles softly at the stubborn child before continuing his tone gentle but serious. “You are loved Anthony even when it doesn’t seem like it. That writing is all the proof you need.”

For a little while Tony is captured by the mystery, wondering just who his ink mate is and how he is going to find them. His handwriting still isn’t that good, even if reading becomes easier everyday, but he practices on the paper Jarvis gives him and wishes his lines were less sloppy.

But then one evening his mother has had one too many glasses of champagne at the event of the day and is feeling a little more inclined to speak honestly to her son. She is even letting him sit on her lap and petting his hair which she hasn’t done in years.

"Mama" Tony says quietly running his finger across her skin, the ‘sorry’ is still as dark as always "why don’t they ever write back?"

Maria was silent, the calm of the moment broken only by Howard and his friend in the next room laughing over the pool table.

"She died my dear." Her voice so soft Tony almost doesn’t catch her response "We were supposed to meet up go dancing with our friends and she was saying sorry because she knew we were not going to get a chance."

Tony thought about this looking down at his own wrist, silent for a long time.

-

"Why do you always wear that stupid watch" Rhodey mumbled gesturing to Tony's arm with the vodka bottle.

"None of your businesses" Tony hiccupped giggling a bit.

"Come on man" Rhodey moaned "I told you about that thing with Carol.” The disgust on his face was visible even through the inebriation.

"Yeah b- _buttt_ that was funnyyy. This est depressing. " His words slurring his fingers playing absently with the watch strap.

"Can't be worse than that." Rhodey was leaning in close, his eyes half mast, pointing to the giant dick drawing that was sprawled across his arm.

Tony took another look at the absurd artwork and rolled over, almost hyperventilating with the force of the laughs coursing through his body, Rhodey was not far behind.

"I mean _come oooon_ " Rhodey chocked out "it's not _my_ fault she has prom at the same time my pen exploded. Its like – _cough_ \- like she isn’t even.. even -" His speech dissolves has he tried to remember exactly what Carol wasn’t.

"It must have been all over her boobs" Tony howled almost bashing his head on the desk leg as he flailed around.

"Ughhhh" Rhodey moaned, lying next to him on the floor as they stopped choking "why did my ink-mate have to be four years younger?"

Tony sobered, staring blankly at the ceiling "Why did mine have to be dead."

-

Howard was dead and Tony was surprised it hadn’t come sooner, his mother was dead and Tony cried, Jarvis was dead and Tony's heart was hardened.

The night after the funeral he got so utterly wasted he created the first functional AI ever. Dummy was actually a complete dumbass and he bashed straight into the wall ten minutes after he officially came “online” knocking himself onto his back and whirling around for help. Not that it was anyone’s business but the laughter the bot gave to Tony may have been the only thing that kept him from drowning that night.

He woke up 16 hours later to Dummy pulling at the watch. He spent a long time just starting at his bot and his words mind fuzzy from alcohol and sorrow.

Then he met Pepper and his heart softened a touch with her bright hair and her "I don't give a shit" attitude. With Pepper came Happy and with the both of them came an unending quest of nagging. The two of them writing his latest fuck ups to each other, right in front of Tony.

He adored them.

Tony kept the watch, he didn't want the media to see the lettering and analyze what the fuck else was wrong with Tony Stark. He did that enough anyways without them thank you very much.

When it wasn't the watch it was some armband or other that he told the media with a wink "there has to be some part of Tony Stark that wasn't on YouTube". Most speculated (somewhat correctly) that it was the place Tony and his ink-mate wrote and he wanted to keep it private. 

He slept around, though not as much as the media thought. If sometimes he let the rumors spread that he slept with people he hadn’t? Well what did he care, wasn’t like he planned on ever actually meeting someone who would care.

When Afghanistan happened it was the first time in years he wanted to write on his skin. He had basically convinced himself (99% sure) that his ink-mate was dead. All the evidence pointed to it. His scribbles as a child and drunken and sober begging as a lonely boy at boarding school had gone un-responded and even at the time he has been pretty sure.

The assholes who captured him took one look at his arm (and boy did Tony hate that these fucks saw his writing) and gave him only pencils to work with. Tony knew that no one was going to write but he sat in that horrible place and thought about just giving in as he stared at his pale and shaking wrist.

Yinsin asked what the lettering meant and Tony had no reason to lie.

"Ah" Yinsin said with a soft smile "then you must get out"

"Doesn't matter," Tony scoffed hugging his battery close. "They are dead. Have been since I was born, or barley born. Either way they aren't out there waiting for me. These are just dead words writing on a dead-man’s arm."

"Perhaps." Yinsin nodded after a moment "but they left you a message of love, you shouldn’t throw it away, even if the person who left it isn't there to prove it to you. Just go prove it to yourself, if one person loved you then there is no reason someone else cannot as well."

 

Tony scoffed and rolled to face the wall. He stared at the words on his bare arm, no watch or band nothing for the first time in years. He wanted to hate the person. Who dies saying that a person who they never met was loved? Tony Stark was loved by no one. What did this person know? Cursing him with words he can never erase.

Except Tony he didn't hate them, couldn't hate them. Whoever it was had taken a conscience effort to comfort someone they had never even met before. And fuck it, Tony didn't know who it was but he loved the hell them for being such a goddamn good person. Throughout his life the only absolute constant had been those stupid words. He didn't deserve them, but he wanted to. Sometimes it made him want to die so he could be with the person who had written the message. Ask them why they wrote them, why they had to die and leave him all alone. Could anyone blame him for just wanting to give up? Yet even with all his problems Tony wasn't suicidal. With another glance at the words he stood, dragging the stupid battery with him, he was getting sick and tired of the damn thing.

Then he was free, freer than ever before. He was Iron Man. Iron Man didn't have a disapproving father, or an ink-mate that didn't exist or even a board of directors that thought you were washed up at 27. No, Iron Man was a goddamn hero.

But fucking Obi had to go ruin everything by being a douche bag and Tony would never admit it but he felt his heart crack a little more with Obis deception.

The world knows he is Iron Man and he traded in the watch and brown arm bands for a new light-weight red and gold one. He almost never has to take it off, the words protected behind Tony's secrecy and the mask of Iron Man.

Shit happens and he is suddenly dying, again. He has a moment of weakness with Natalia, who turns out to be Natasha, where he basically admits his dying and then adds:

"Well at least someone is waiting for me."

Slipping off the band to put on the watch she picked. He doesn't think she sees the writing for long enough to understand, but he also doesn't care.

Then fuck it all he is alive again, and he kicks ass with his best bud and saves Pepper from being blown up and it's all good. He doesn't kiss Pepper, even though he thinks about it, because he might not be the best at observing people but he still doesn't get how she thinks her and Happy are "platonic" ink-mates.

He decides to tolerate Coulson and maybe he kinda thinks Natasha is a badass (he is stuck between wanted to hide around corners when he sees her and also wanting to pet her hair. He is pretty sure she is a witch) even if she was a little bit of a bitch about the whole Avengers thing. But hey he is his own worst critic and- well she wasn't exactly wrong.

So things go well and he decides New York sounds like a good place to build a giant ass tower while the cleanup crew take care of the... mess he and Rhodey left. He has a little too much fun designing the tower and maybe a little too much fun teasing Pepper about designing the tower.

He is shocked to find out he is happy. He has friends and he is moving on with his life. SI is going well, he is finally building and designing things he likes. He no longer wakes up in the morning feeling like something scrapped of the floor. He is happy. Things are good.

So of course, right when everything is falling into place there is a small mess with aliens, spies, gods and a 70 year-old-daddy-issues-nightmare and Tony gives himself another symptom to add to the "Is it PTSD or just massive anxiety list". (Pepper says that's completely inappropriate and if he needs that as a list he “needs a therapist and no dummy doesn't count")

Maybe it's because of all this that he doesn't notice the writing is gone until he is in shower trying to scrub the feeling of Space off his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry for the wait! I apparently do best when I a traveling, I wrote the first four chapters to this story on plane rides across the country and I edited and fixed this one on a trip across the pacific. Since there is more traveling in my future I guess that means I will be updating sooner this time! 
> 
> Please let me know if there is anything that is in desperate need of fixing. I also would love to hear your thoughts and any ideas or wants you may have for this story. I love knowing what people are interested in so I know where I should take the story. I do have he next two chapters written but I am happy for advice!


	3. Your heart on my wrist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve discovers he doesn't have to be lonely

 

Steve had always been pretty adaptable, and being Captain American had really helped with making quick decisions. Still, he isn’t totally convinced this isn’t just some wartime induced hallucination. Wrapping his head around the idea that he had been frozen for 70 years is a little stressful and he is constantly reminding himself of where and _when_ he is, he still sometimes wonders if it really is a dream.  

But it's not, and a day after Steve wakes up in that failure of a forty-style hospital room he stands in the shower and stares at the ink refusing to come off his skin. 

It's the fanciest bathroom he has ever seen, even if according to the medical personal it's "below par". Steve has never been told he can take a shower for as long as he wants. He must make some kind of face at the words because the doctor chuckles

"No really Captain I think if you wanted to stay in there for three days the staff would only worry about making sure the hot water doesn't run out." And what a concept that there is _hot_ water, "but I don't recommend that, it's not exactly healthy, plus Coulson would panic that you would drown". 

Steve has no idea who Coulson is yet but he is too tired to care.

He doesn't spend three days in the shower, but he does spend a good two hours trying to scrub war off his skin. 

The hastily scribbled words were surly seen by Fury and the rest of the medical staff. It makes him a little angry to think they invaded his privacy like that but then again, it's not like he has any new markings. His skin is as blank as it was before. 

It took only seconds to write the words, but it takes almost thirty minutes to remove them. When his skin is pink and raw, and already healing, Steve stares at this spot a dull feeling of hopeless in his chest. Maybe his soulmate was alive in the forties but the likelihood they were alive now was so slim it seemed even more painful than when Steve waited for a response he never got. 

Google (and holy shit _internet_ ) is what finally leads him to find out about some of the people he knew. Of course, most of the commandos just have small paragraphs written about their lives but Steve finds it’s enough to make him feel something- maybe-  a bit like closure.

Naturally he comes across Howard Stark without even trying. The name Stark is wrapped in the history articles as much as it seems to be in today’s news. He spends a good hour reading about Howard Stark’s life after the war and without trying finds Anthony Stark. 

Steve doesn't like to think of himself as a judgmental man, but he does form some conclusions about the son of Howard Stark and meeting the man just seems to confirm them.  Playboy was a bit after his time and reading about the scandals makes him happy that he wasn’t awake for most of it.

Steve isn't completely unreasonable though and when Stark saves him, his team and probably the whole goddamn world Steve supposes he can forgive the snark the man seems to thrive from. 

"So," Tony says after Thor takes off with his brother to god knows where, literally "what's everyone up to in five to six months?" 

Clint raises his eyebrows behind his sunglasses and Natasha squints at Stark, clearly suspicious. 

"Why?" Steve asks "planning a party?” He keeps surprising himself with the sarcastic comments, he didn’t think he would be able to smile again in this new world.

"Yup!" Tony says rocking on the balls of his feet "housewarming party part two." 

"I'll bring a cake." Steve chuckles (and where the hell did _that_ come from).

Tony waves a hand; "Don't bother with food, Jarvis will make sure we have more than enough. Just bring yourself and your bags. And maybe some, what are they called? Tchotchkes?"

"Oh god" Clint muttered under his breathe, clearly getting something that Steve hasn't. 

"Tchotchkes? Tony what-?" 

"You haven't heard?" He begins clearly knowing they haven't heard if his smirk is anything to go by "Fury wants us to continue this little pow-wow and once the tower is finished, we are all starting a superhero frat! Though is it still a frat if we are mixed sex? Cause I don't think Natasha can count as a frat boy, she cleans up way to nice. Maybe we are just a club? Clubs don't usually dorm together though. I suppose we can be a sorority cause, you know, feminism and all that, but I'm not sure-" 

"Tony." Bruce interrupts rubbing his forehead in a worrying manner  

"Listen Brucie I explained to you already where I told Fury to stick his ideas, but then Pepper, whom I love and adore said it would be 'good for us' and whatever. Since I long ago accepted I have lost complete control of my life she has already told the contractors to rebuild the floors into some nice superhero themed rooms, I hope you all like bright colors. I don't know about you but Pepper Potts scares me so if you don't like it take it up with her and Fury." 

Steve doesn’t even know how to respond to that. 

\---

Seven months later Steve stood at the lobby of the tower right outside the rotating doors wondering what exactly Tony expected him to do after he "came right in". 

It has been a good couple of weeks. His ride cross country had been pretty calming, he only got into two major insistence. Seriously didn't _anyone_ know how to chase down a bank robber in South Dakota? But it has been fun and he met some interesting people along the way.

He did eventually make it all the way to California and sat in his hotel room for three hours debating if he wanted to open the file Maria Hill had given him. Apparently, someone in shield (and Steve had a pretty good idea of who) had ended up tracking down Anna Becker. Maria had told her Anna had died, but her husband and three children still lived in Sacramento if he wanted to look them up. 

He finally gave in and followed the address to an adorable home where a dog greeted him at the gate with loud happy barks. 

A beautiful young woman answered the door and Steve stuttered out an awkward explanation. 

He smiled at the memory of the afternoon after that. The Beckers had been more than happy to invite him in and exchange photos, Anna had been stunning just like he knew she would be. It was a strange afternoon, but a good one 

"You alright there Cap? You're looking a little lost"

Steve turned to see Tony Stark standing beside him, orange Raybands firmly on his face and a bright red mug claiming "My other car is Iron Man" in his right hand. Steve's eyes took in the band covering a couple inches of his forearm before moving down the length of his body and - realizing what he was doing - wrenched his eyes back to Tony's face. 

Tony was smirking at him and Steve willed his face not to turn red. 

'Well' Steve thought 'there's that I guess' 

By some mercy Tony didn't make a comment and Steve plucked up enough to say "Hey you didn't tell me where to go in the tower, just to come on in, I came in" 

Tony's smile became a touch more genuine and he laughs "Well Cap, if you wanna bunk in the lobby by all means go ahead, but I don't recommend it. The plebs might get annoyed." 

Steve had no idea what a 'pleb' was, but figured it was some time of insult since it was Tony. 

"Tony." Steve sighed, but he found himself smiling fondly. Apparently texting Tony on his way back to New York had improved his judgements towards the man. 

Tony grinned back, clearly pleased they were standing in the same room for more than a minute without fighting. "Well come on everyone else is already here. Late for everything hu Cap?" 

"Story of my life." 

\---

Tony wasn't kidding, the rest of the Avengers were all settled in the kitchen when he arrived. Natasha sipping on what looked like some fancy coffee drink from a stool at the long center island and Clint sitting on the counter beside her, a tablet in hand. 

Steve had to do a double take when he saw the same inky patterns winding around both Clint and Natasha's arms. He had no idea what it said, it looks to be written in Russian, but damn he felt like an idiot. Of course they were ink-mates it should have been obvious with how close they were during and after Loki. 

"Our loyal leader has arrived!" Clint said grandly, well as grand as one could say anything through a mouth full of cereal. 

"Ew Clint" Bruce said from behind the two where he was making tea at the counter. Then he smiled at Steve "Morning Captain" 

"Just Steve is fine" he said with a smile nodding when Bruce held up the tea pot in his direction. 

"Really Stark another cup?" Clint said as Tony poured more coffee into his mug. "What is that like the fourth one? It's only 10am." 

"Bite me Robin Hood. Some of us need a healthy dose of caffeine to get the day going." 

"We watched Men in tights one time. One time! And my hair is way better than Cary Elwes." 

"I don't think so" Natasha singsonged braiding her hair with fast fingers.  

"Literally every archer had nicer hair than yours." Tony began counting them off on his fingers "Katniss, Legolas, Merida, -" 

"Screw you metal man!" 

Steve accepted the mug Bruce handed him, noticing the dotting of hearts on his inner wrist, and smiled at the group. Living here was already better than the cold apartment in S.H.I.E.L.D.

 ---

Living with the Avengers was a whole new experience for Steve. Sure, he bunked with the Commandos but it had been war and he didn't think you could compare sleeping on the hard, muddy ground to napping on Tony's 50K couch. 

It wasn't the luxury that was the real difference though, it was how they acted around each other. How in the first month or so they lived together they became more than a team, they became friends. Real solid "I like you even when I don't need to be around you" friends. Steve loved it. 

Natasha and Clint had the advantage of knowing each other much longer than the rest. They were intertwined so deeply it was like stiches were holding them together. Steve never got to hear much about the time before they officially "met" but he knew Natasha only ever really wrote notes in the corners of her body, not easily seen, and as soon as she could write in his language had asked Clint to do the same for her. 

In fact, most of shield had no idea the two are ink-mates. He found out later that it was a complete anomaly that the two had written in plain sight the day he came to the tower. (He discovers Natasha writes nonsense up and down her arms when Clint has nightmares just so he knows she still can. That Loki's spell didn't permanently remove the writing (like it had during his mind-wash) 

They aren't Together though, (fast forward a year and replace cellist which archer) and Steve see hints of himself and Bucky in their friendship. 

Clint likes to draw little characters on his arms, hands and ankles. He was especially good at Woodstock and Snoopy, but he also draws little Avengers in quick neat strokes. He doesn't have an artist’s touch as Steve has been told he does, but he has the work of one who can make a character from a few well place lines. Plus his art is kinda hilarious. He draws little actions scenes out on his forearm during Shield meetings, it drives Maria mad but she never seems to be able to confiscate all his pens. 

Later he finds that Natasha takes photos of the little comics Clint draws on her arms. His personal favorite his one is of all the avengers at a meeting sleeping on and under the tables, with little dream bubbles of what they are all dreaming of (the little Cap character is dreaming of a hot dog stand, and Steve totally was thinking about the stand at the edge of central park, Clint may be able to read minds, its worrying).   

Natasha also does art but more like medallions that cover across the back of her hands made of up hundreds of little lines and dots. Steve notices she likes to do this at night, maybe during a movie she takes a pen and just covers a huge patch around her knee like a “psychedelic flower” as Tony says.

"We spoke and wrote different languages for years when we were young." Clint tells him "So we drew." 

Steve also knows neither ever keep the art visible for long. He learns the pens they use are made for quick erase, a quick wipe of a cloth and any evidence is gone. 

"You can't be a spy with flowers on your legs and cartoons on your shoulders" Natasha tells him pointedly when he sees her art work swiped away anytime they leave the tower. 

He gets it, but it gives him as odd ache in his chest. 

Bruce was a mystery to Steve for a long time. The man was so quiet, acting like he didn't even belong in the same world as them, let alone the same room. He was opposite to Steve in so many ways, yoga over punching bags, meditation over sprints, chemical formulas over colored pencils. For a long time Steve, just didn't know what to do with it. 

He finally found something they had in common with, of all things, gardening. Steve had wondered up to the roof one afternoon and found that greenhouse. It was small, but absolutely bursting with plants. The room was temperature controlled and there were tomatoes, lettuce, a whole rose bush and even what looked like pumpkin vines growing in the corner. He had fallen in love with the place imminently and even though he had never touched a plant in his life Bruce had been happy to show him how to tend to the plants.

Tony had had this crappy little greenhouse on the roof of the building installed during the initial plans. Well it had been crappy according to Pepper before Bruce moved in and took over. There was something cathartic about pulling weeds, watering tomatoes and scrubbing dirt from his fingers. It was one of the realest things since entering this new world.

For some strange reason it drove Tony nuts that the two of them spent so much time caring for what he referred to as the “creepy grass”. Tony just couldn’t understand why one would want to spend time with plants when you could hang out with robots.  He would often wonder up to the greenhouse when Bruce and Steve were there and just touch things, talking the whole time about how he could make the greenhouse ten times bigger and a hundred times more efficient. Finally, he had accidently stepped on favorited tomato plant and Bruce had banned him from the greenhouse. Luckily no one argued with a Banner who was looking (somewhat ironically) green. 

When the tradition first began they didn't talk much, not know what they had in common, until the day Steve gripped a pot a little too hard and it shattered in pieces cutting his hands and scattering across the dirt covered floor.

"Shit," Steve gasped glaring at his own hands, little specks of blood sitting his pale flesh. 

Bruce chuckled from his spot watering his prized tomato plant, revived from its near death by Tony’s shoe, "It's alright, no biggie we have like a thousand of those cups." 

"Still," Steve said trying to sweep as much ceramic off as he could "I swear sometimes when I'm doing things that’s aren’t battles I don't remember that I’m not - well, Captain America all the time." 

"Yeah," Bruce agreed, looking sympathetic and a little distant "that's what we get for injecting weird ass shit into our bodies hu?"  

And- oh, Steve has never given much thought into the fact that they probably had be biggest similarity of all. 

After that Steve found it easier to talk to the man, sure he still didn't find much use in meditation or pilates, but they shared stories of when they were younger, bonded over the antics of Clint and Tony. Luckily for everyone Clint much preferred to play fetch with Dummy than water Edgar, yes they had named the tomato plant. 

After a month or so Steve was passing a seedling over to the other man and his eyes once again fixated and the little hearts drawn on his wrist. They were just as bright and steady on his wrist as the first time he has seen them and he couldn't help but stare for a moment. Bruce noticed him looking, and to Steve’s slight surprise he said "She used that permanent ink you know? The one that you can only erase with that special soap? It was made a little after your time I think." Bruce said a soft smile on his face. 

"Oh!" Steve said feeling a little bad for staring, it wasn't considered polite to read what another had given you in such an intimate way. 

"We- ah were together, before, you know, the other guy." Bruce's voice was soft, but not heartbroken. He was turning his wrist has he spoke. "There was some... stuff and we decided not to write for a while." 

 "Oh Bruce-" Steve began his heartbreaking for Bruce. He couldn't image having an ink-mate and not talking with them as much as possible. 

Bruce just grinned softy at the plant in his hand. "It's okay. Maybe in a few years we will write again. It's not that we don't care for each other, it's just it was too hard with the other guy. It was awful at first, but it's okay now." His smile was small but real.  

"Thank you for sharing with me Bruce." Steve said sincerely "Still, I'm sorry that must have been a difficult time. 

"Yeah," Bruce's smiled didn't fade and his eyes seemed a little fuller, “but as Tony told me 'at least she is still there to respond too' you know?" 

Oh right, then there was Tony…  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of Tony and Steve interaction in this Chapter! Sorry!! But the next will once again focus on Tony's POV and what it was like when all the avengers first moved in. We also will find out about the texts Steve and Tony exchanged! Please let me know if you see any mistakes! I've been insanely busy and running on very little sleep so my editing skills are not on point! 
> 
> I would love to hear from you all!!


	4. This is real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going well for Tony... it's weird.

 

After going from consultant to a goddamn landlord Tony told Pepper he was going to stay in Malibu during the Towers repairs and renovations. Pepper was not entirely happy about the whole thing since she was going to have to stay in New York and she felt Tony "was compromised by his experience and needed support." Which _really_ Pepper? Tony didn’t need therapy and he didn’t need her pretending to be a therapist.

Tony told her repeatedly he was fine and he just needed a week or two with Jarvis and his bots in his lab at home. Tony hadn't moved Dummy and the rest to New York yet since the tower had only just been finished, and it turned out to be for the best. 

When he finally got Pepper let him go (she was a little bright eyed but Tony pushed her at Happy and told them "oh my god I'm finneee") he happily took his jet back to his home and immediately went to see the kids.  

Butterfingers and U immediately perk up from there charging stations and whir to life around him beeping and chirping demanding pats and attention. 

Dummy starts racing around him crashing into tables and old supplies chirping like mad, one of his tires squeaking in a way that makes Tony’s hand itch. 

For the first time since he hears the name Loki Tony's shoulders un-tense.  

An hour later he sits on the ratty couch in the lab, and stares at the band in his wrist. After he realized the writing was gone he had promptly slapped the band back on and pushed all thoughts of it to the back of his mind. He had more things to worry about at the time. But now alone in his lab without the other Avengers or Fury or the goddamn world needing him, he started to peel back the fabric.  

He had basically convinced himself he had been delusional when he had been in the shower. He had just gotten back from _space_ he was allowed a weird hallucination or two. But his heart was beating so hard he swore he could feel it against the arc reactor. 

The fabric pulls away slowly and Tony stares. 

Blank skin stares right back. 

Okay so the sight panic attack he has is probably justified. 

The next morning Tony wakes to Dummy's confused beeps above him. His head is pounding from the scotch and he doesn't think he has been this hungover since that time Natasha stabbed him in the neck. 

Tony lifts his arm in front of his blinking eyes. Still nothing. 

"Jarvis," he calls closing his eyes to the ceiling of the lab "is there any evidence of writing erasing on people who have gone into space?"  

"An extensive study in 2001 showed that traveling out of earths atmosphere did not affect the time or the length of ink writing on skin. This was further studied in 2007-" 

"What about when a body is cremated? Or washed away or something else unpleasant" Tony's stomach is churning. Oh god this is why he didn't binge anymore. Jesus. 

"There is no evidence that ink writing vanishes after death of any kind. Cremation does not affect ink-mates own writing. In 1986 two scientists looks at the effects of various death and burial-"  

"Uuuuughhhh" Tony groaned rolling onto his face. U started pulling at his shirt with a concerned whine. 

He lay there, his mind a cloudy fog of alcohol and all the factual data he knew about ink-mates whirring sluggishly through the daze.

What. The. Fuck. Was his ink-mate just an asshole who suddenly decided not to keep the writing? But then why had they ignored Tony's own scribbles when he was young? It just didn't make sense!

Or... _oh god_.  

"Jarvis," he said his voice a little panicked "was there ever something writing on my arm". Because he was staring at it again and it looking so plain like nothing has ever been there. 

"Since my creation you have always had the phrase “Ta tu ag agra” writing on you left wrist which you have covered." 

Tony sighed. Okay good, he knew wasn't that crazy. "Well were the fuck did it go". 

"A scan from four months ago after your injury during the testing of Mark 17 indicates the words had already been erased at that point" 

Four months ago? How the hell didn't he notice! 

"Well shit Jarvis! Why didn't you say anything!" 

"I'm sorry sir." Jarvis sounded a little peeved at the idea "you told me not to mention any facts about ink-mates unless specifically asked." 

"Ughhhh" Tony groaned again. He was too hungover for this shit. "Well why would it disappear like that?" 

"The only scientific conclusion would be that your ink-mate erased the writing." 

Well fuck. 

 - 

When he finally feels completely sober two days later his first two thoughts are: ‘do I write back’ and ‘do I leave the band off.’ 

He dismisses the latter immediately after he thinks it. He does not need the media on his case about that. They seem to have finally got over the fact he wears a band, he doesn't need them to have a heart attack over his private life. Again. 

The former he thinks about for a moment. Should he write something? And _lord_ what would he write?

" _Hey I know you are there, unless this is some freak thing where you are still dead and I'm just more of a disaster than I thought, but what the fuck?"_

He honestly considered this for a second until- _oh god_. What if they responded? 

Tony had resigned himself to his ink-mate’s death when he was about six years old. Sure, at points he had been in denial and tried to write and gather a response. But on some level, he had always accepted no one was ever going to respond.  

Plus, to be honest Tony was a little hurt if his ink-mate really was alive and had suddenly decided to erase what must have been permanent ink Tony felt he at least deserved a "Sorry I don't think I can agree with this anymore, you know you can't be loved Stark." At least that would have been true enough. 

So, Tony did what he had done since the first time Howard had handed him a burning hot piece of metal. He gritted his teeth and dealt with the pain alone. 

He slammed the band back on and pretended his skin didn't burn as badly as that hot iron. 

- 

Tony stays at the house for two weeks before the doorbell rings and Bruce Banner shows up at the door a rucksack on his arm.  

"Pepper sent me." Bruce said with a cautious smile "the construction at the tower was getting a little loud."  

Of course. Pepper is amazing.  

For the next couple months, the two of them bond in the workshop and labs acting like college kids. At one point Bruce thinks he found a combination of chemicals that will solidify on contact but instead bursts into a stinging exploding powder. That becomes a little too much fun and Tony starts designing arrows for Hawkeye. This starts a chain reaction of making things for all the Avengers. Its oddly peaceful, making things for people’s unique skill instead of weapons that are so generalized even the military could figure them out. And thank the lord they finally had someone competent working on the new Stark phones. Tony really didn’t have the time to “cater to the public consumer’.

Bruce and him are the first to head to the completed tower, now with six shiny new suites. Tony packs up the bots and the things he actually gives a crap about and five hours later Dummy is wheeling around the Tower workshop like the demented child he is. 

It's takes him a week or two to decide to text the rest of the group and he is a little sad. He really doesn't want to break up the great dynamic him and Bruce have found. But Pepper frowns at him when she finds he hasn't so he starts with Natasha. 

Barley two hours later her and Clint show up in the main kitchen. He honest doesn't even know they are there till he goes to get his midday coffee.  

He starts so badly at Clint's form on the counter he drops the table he is holding.  

"What the hell! You didn't even respond to my message!" 

"We were already packed." Natasha responded sipping on her chia tea, which Tony was positive hadn't been in his cupboard that's morning. 

"Still." He grumbled reaching down for his tech. Its Starktech so its perfectly fine from its small altercation from the floor.  

"Ah sorry man, make it up to you I'll make popcorn before we watch Caddyshack!" 

 "What?" Tony says startled, popcorn? 

 "Movie night." Natasha says as if she lived there for years instead of like two hours. Though maybe they had been here the whole time. They are creepy spies. 

 Weirdly movie night ends up being… fun? Tony isn’t sure if that is the right word. Everyone seems pretty tense, except Clint who is blabbering at the screen like crazy. Though he supposes that could be Clint’s nervous energy, but Tony really is no expert.  Either way everyone eats popcorn and watches Billy Murray’s hot mess of a movie. Tony has actually never seen it before and is unsure if he should mentally label it cinematic gold, or utter nonsense.

 After that he suppose he better message _The Captain_ (yes capitals are necessary). They had parted on good terms, Steve even saying he was glad not to be in a crappy Shield apartment, but still there was a seventy-year gap of Howard Stark resentment between them. 

 He decides to be casual about it and send a quick 

 

 To: Rogers 

 "Hey Cap, Towers all finished movie nights on Tuesdays’ mandatory" 

 

He stares at his phone for a moment biting his lip. Maybe that was too harsh? But before he can send something a little softer he gets a response 

 

From: Rogers 

"Oh good I haven't seen Star Wars yet. The girl on the train told me it was necessary for life." 

 

Tony stared. Well okay then. Before he can begin to even think of a response another message comes through 

 

From: Rogers  

"Might miss the first couple though. Still need to get back to New York." 

 

Okay not problem, so Steve would be a little late to the slumber party. 

 

To: Rogers 

"No worries. We will wait on Star Wars. Where are you anyway?" 

 

Steve must be watching his phone as Tony types because almost immediately he gets back a slightly blurry picture of the Grand Canyon. 

 

Tony smiles at Steve's terrible photography skills 

 

To: Rogers  

"Don't fall in, we can’t have one America icon falling into another American icon. That would be embarrassing. I know your love of jumping off things." 

 

From: Rogers 

"Damn it and I promised all these people I would." Followed by a picture of a large crowd of people clearly waiting for something

 

Well shit? Was Rogers being funny?

 

To: Rogers

“You’re kidding, right?? I was kidding. No jumping off things. I don’t know how but I just know Fury will blame me.”

 

From: Rogers

“Well we can’t have you being yelled at by Fury for things you haven’t done. Need to save that for when you actually deserve it.”

 

This was followed by another image of what the group must have been watched, a young woman was balanced on top of a horse clearly an acrobat. The Midwest was weird. 

-  

They keep texting. Just about stupid stuff the next couple weeks. It's not constant but every day or so one of them "checks in" with the other. Its weird but Tony finds he actually enjoys it. 

 

To: Steve 

 "We have cops for a reason. No need to chase people down in every state. You will make them lazy."

 

From: Steve 

"What can I say I like to help out the boys in blue." 

 

To: Steve 

"Helping out! You did the whole job for them. I'm literally watching it right now. You put the guy on the back of your bike taped together and drove him to the station!"

 

From: Steve

 "I didn't want to have to make the cops go all the way to the bank. They are busy you know!" 

 

To Steve 

 "Jesus Christ Cap" 

 

From Steve 

 "Tony don't swear it's unbecoming of a man of your standing." 

 

This sass was followed be a picture of Steve in from of mt. Rushmore with two cops eating donuts.

A week before Steve says he is going to arrive he sends a picture of The White House and in reply he sends Steve a picture of dummy in a ski hat. Steve says he can't wait to meet the bot. And even sends a little robot emoji!

 

To: Captain Sass 

"Who taught you to use emojis?!" 

 

From: Captain Sass 

"I made a friend!" 

 

Picture of Steve and an African American man. He has his thumbs up and is grinning with a ‘omg captain America is taking a selfie with me' expression. 

Dear lord this man was ridiculous. 

Still just because he found Steve to be a sassy little shit over text didn't mean he wasn't nervous about the man moving in. Things had changed since that first movie night and it was a good change. It had started with Tony giving Clint his new (creatively named) pain-dust arrows. Clint imminently demands they go test them together. 

Somehow this led to two bottles of champagne and ended when Bruce forbid Clint from trying to "ride Iron Man like a mighty steed, but not in a kinky way". Bruce had gone to find Tony and arrived to find Clint about to jump onto Tony who was hovering horizontally in the air swaying a bit due to his tipsiness (yes tipsy Bruce, he does get drunk from one bottle of wine he isn't that weak) 

So, him and Clint? Like flint and a spark.

He had known Natasha before but now that he wasn't dying and hitting on her they started a more real relationship. 

 To start she didn't fall for any of his bullshit. It was really annoying how she could see his lie from a mile away. He would claim to have slept that night so they would leave him alone and she just she looked him with that "I know your talking shit" look that made his insides all icky. Most of the time she didn't even call him on it, just silently judged him. He honestly didn't know which was worse. 

 Things were falling back into place, even though sometimes Tony feels like he is still falling from space. For a while he just goes about his assumption that he is the most fucked up one of the group (which usually seems to be the case in any give assemblage) but then he sees the “This is real” written on the curve of Clint’s ankle when he is climbing the cabinets to reach Bruce’s thin mints. For some reason realizing that his team mates may also be a little messed up (and honestly Tony how the hell didn’t you realize that sooner) makes him feel like he actually belongs with these people.

 They end up in kind of a rhythm when Tony actually decided to take a real break and nerd out a little bit with Star Trek: The Next Generation. It’s been a rough… year… and this reminded him of college and Rhodey and Dummy. He had been pretty sure Natasha was down in the gym but maybe she has super hearing cause as soon as Picard started with "Space, the final frontier" she materialized next to him, a cup of tea and a god damn crochet pattern. 

 He was smart enough not to make a snide comment but he couldn't help the raise of eyebrows. She ignored him and began making... something. 

 Four episodes later Tony blinks and find himself leaning on a pillow on Natasha thigh while Data is talking to someone in his singsong voice. 

 Natasha is still crocheting (something complicated from the look of it) and Tony relaxes because this was fine. 

 It becomes a thing. Sometimes Clint joins them and makes comments throughout the whole episode and draws little Star Trek figures across his hands. Tony likes that too, but sometimes the soft sound of the enterprise with only the clink on the crochet hook is all he wants (plus in a weird subconscious way he thinks seeing the lines appear across Natasha’s hands soothes him). 

 She makes a goddamn mini wool Data. 

 Tony loves it. 

 She goes on to made the next one (LaForge) and Tony orders a goddamn yarn basket for his high-tech living room for a woman who could probably take down the US government without blinking.

 He is happy. They have been there for a little over a month and he can honestly say he likes their presence. What will happen if Captain Spangles comes and ruins it? Tony is honestly not sure he can deal with losing something else he loves.

 Turns out Steve does ruin everything. He becomes Tony's best friend. 

 

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!! Hopefully the next one will not take me too long. Sadly all of the next two chapters were saved on my phone, which then had a forced reboot and I lost everything :(. I also have been a little distracted and doing some poetics! If you are interested please check them out! 
> 
> Much love to you all!!
> 
> p.s. has anyone figured out the chapter titles?


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